


A Bit Of Rain Doesn't Hurt

by andthedreamgoesreducto



Series: AxG Week 2014 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthedreamgoesreducto/pseuds/andthedreamgoesreducto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was raining the day Melisandre was brought to King's Landing to face the wrath of Queen Daenerys. All it seems to do now is rain and Arya just wants it to stop. Day 3: Rain: falling water</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit Of Rain Doesn't Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Number three is here! This one was finsihed last night at 11 o'clock after my shift at work. Wowzah!  
> I think is my favourite fic out of all seven prompts, or at least the idea of what I wrote is my favourite. It was definetely the most stressful to write!  
> Before anything, I have to thank one of my best friends, Heledd, who read all of this fic, despite not even being in the fandom!  
> Still don't own anything and so without any more babbling here it is- enjoy! And please comment or kudos, they really do make my day! Thanks

**Day 3:**   
_Rain: **falling water**_

It was raining the day Melisandre was brought to King’s Landing to face the wrath of Queen Daenerys. A gentle drizzle fell, that would soon turn into a fearsome storm if the grey clouds gave any indication. The Red Witch was dragged in by the Queen’s guard making no effort to free herself. If anything this only worried the inhabitants of the Queen’s court more. She was a witch after all, and witches were never still. Melisandre of course knew this, and used it in her favour. She smiled coyly at the noble men, who could only stare back in awe and fear. However, her smile seemed tired and painful.

Arya Stark stood on the Queen’s side, watching the prisoner with loathing and hate. The Red Witch had been brought to her knees in front of the mother of dragons and was held there by two knights adorned in Queen Daenerys’ sigils.

Whilst the Queen addressed her prisoner and listed the crimes she was accused of, Arya looked at the Red Witch. Much time had passed since they had last seen each other on that blasted day and the time showed on the older woman’s face. Her hair was longer, but it had dulled from it’s previous vivacious colour. Wrinkles appeared scattered over her face, though Arya thought the crinkles around her eyes could in no way be laughter lines.

It was her eyes that had changed the most. No longer were they lingering on every body in the room, trying to find a weakness that could be used to manipulate them in her favour. They looked dead. Simply staring at Daenerys, not with hate or even fear, but with nothing. The Red Witch held nothing in her eyes and looked so frail, that if the two guards weren’t there to hold her up, she would have fallen to the ground. Nevertheless she gave off an aura of power and mystery, that could only be responded with trepidation.

When asked how she pleaded to these crimes, guilty or not guilty, Melisandre did not answer. When told that her silence would only indicate her guilt and would mean being sentenced for punishment, she answered ‘It is not you who will decide my fate. Only the Lord of the Light can do that and he will protect me from mortal harm’

Daenerys had enough of her silence and addressed her court. ‘If there is nothing else, anyone has to say, in favour or against the prisoner, the sentencing will begin’. There was a pause, and murmurs took over the hall. Though no one stood forward. Daenerys paused for one more moment and opened her mouth to continue. However she was interrupted.

‘What happened to him?’

All eyes snapped to Arya Stark, including the Queen’s and the prisoner’s. No one said anything. So she repeated herself, louder and clearer than the first time. ‘What happened to him?’. The hall began to darken, the clouds coming overhead, blocking the light.

‘Arya, what are you doing?’ Sansa whispered to her reprimanding her, looking over the hall and towards the throne, indicating that now was not the time, although Arya could plainly see the curiosity her eyes held. Daenerys said nothing, which Arya took as permission to continue questioning the witch.

‘What happened to him?’

Melisandre kept her eyes trained on the young Stark girl and for the first time since her entrance into the hall, her eyes showed the a spark of life. ‘Well, well, well, Lady Arya Stark, look how much you’ve grown’ she mocked, but Arya restrained herself and simply reiterated the question again.

‘I don’t know who you’re referring to Lady Stark’ the witch pondered in a ridiculing tone.

‘You know who I am referring to’ Arya spat in response, showing her anger. Melisandre merely faked thinking. This only enraged the little Lady more. Seeing that Arya would soon swoop down on her and ripe her throat out, as if she really were a direwolf, she answered.

‘Ah yes’ she smirked mockingly, as if she had reached an epiphany, ‘the bastard boy from the Brotherhood’

‘Don’t call him that’ Arya snapped in response. The people in court, started to mumble around her, wondering and deliberating over who this ‘bastard boy’ was and why it mattered so much to the younger Stark girl.

Melisandre snorted under her breath, although Arya took notice. Her mocking of the situation, of the boy and of Arya herself, infuriated her so much. Her nerves were set on edge. The Red Witch, had killed before, but so had she.

‘He’s long gone, little girl.’ Melisandre stated, bring everyone’s attention back to her once more.

‘What?’ Arya muttered in shock looking at the blasted Red Witch. ‘What?’ she shouted louder at the woman. When there was no reply, Arya made her way down the steps from the Iron Throne and in front of Melisandre.

‘Arya!’ Sansa quaked, making her way to go towards her sister, not unlike many guards that lined the hall. But Daenerys held up her, commanding her subjects with a simple movement. They obeyed.

Arya had now made her way standing in front of the witch.

‘What do you mean he’s long gone?’ she demanded. ‘What did you do to him?’

Melisandre did nothing, only leered secretively.

‘Tell me!’ Arya commanded with true rage ringing in her shout.

The witch looked at her ‘The last time we met, I told you that many eyes would close for the final time because of you. That has obviously come true I see’

‘Stop it. Just tell me now, what did you do to him?’ Arya thundered.

‘I brought him to Dragonstone’ the Red Witch started, smiling coyly, ‘And I brought him to my bed’.

Arya froze and watched the witch. Her gaze steeled, her body tensed. The witch took this as a victory.

‘And then. Well’ she paused, taking pleasure from the discomfort she had caused, ‘Then after I was done with him, he went to the dungeons. He managed to escape.’

Arya seemed a little relieved at this, hoping against hope that maybe there was a chance he was fine. But Melisandre didn’t let this last long. ‘The only way to escape Dragonstone, would be boat and all sailors knew we were looking for him. He would get no passage.

‘He would only be able to get out by rowing. The boy lived in King’s Landing his whole life. Do you think he ever learned how to row? Or how to swim? Besides, he was a large boy. The boat would over turn, and he would drown’

The hall took all the information in and despite not knowing the boy, solemnly thought over his fate. To an outsider, it would appear as if they were mourning for him. Sansa was in tears, but Arya stood still. The silence in the hall echoed, the only thing heard, being the pouring rain outside, which grew harder and heavier with every passing moment.

‘No’ Arya whispered ‘He’s not dead. He can’t be dead’

‘Arya’ Sansa sobbed, moving towards her and opening her arms for an embrace.

‘No!’ she shouted, stopping Sansa in her tracks. ‘He’s not dead! He can’t be. He’s too bloody stubborn to be dead.’ The rain got louder and the skies rumbled. The eye of the storm was approaching, coming faster with every second. The noise filled the hall.

‘He’s dead little girl, long gone’ Melisandre stated dully ‘He’s the Lord of the Light’s now’

There was a pause. The rain stopped for a moment, leaving nothing but the witch’s voice to fill Arya’s ears.

‘Funny. He was meant to be a sacrifice to the God of the Light for King Stannis Baratheon’ Melisandre remarked proudly ‘His death may have served some purpose for our cause as intended’

It all happened so quickly. Arya drew her sword from her belt. The sky rumbled fiercely and the heavens opened once more. Without a second thought, Arya slide the sword into Melisandre’s stomach, piercing her all the way through, that the sword came out the other side. Gasps and rumbles of thunder filled the hall. Shock and fear flickered in Melisandre’s eyes whilst the sky was lit up with lightning.

Queen Daenerys held up her hand once more, no moved towards Arya. She looked at the two guards holding the dying witch and inclined her head, telling them to move away. They did so leaving Melisandre only being held up by the piercing sword.

‘Where’s your Lord of the Light now?’ Arya hissed in Melisandre’s face. She twisted her sword and a gasp escaped the Red Witch’s lips. Arya drew the sword from the witch’s body and stepped back. Outside a large tree cracked and began to fell, the impact of it hitting the ground, only reiterated Melisandre’s fall and collapse on the palace’s floor. With her hands pressed to her stomach, where blood as red as her hair was pouring out, and with one last shuddering gasp, she breathed no more.

The rain outside calmed, and returned to it’s previous drizzle. The storm had passed.

Queen Daenerys spoke loud and clear ‘I believe that is all for now. You may return to your duties’. Her voice gave no leeway for argument. She turned to the two guards who had held up the Red Witch and silently instructed them to take the body away, ready to be disposed of.

Arya remained staring at the ground, even when the body was moved. She gazed viciously at the pool of blood, that lingered on the floor, though her face showed no remorse for her actions. Although, if the way she had reacted to the Red Witch’s revelation on the boy’s whereabouts gave any indication, Arya Stark would never go on to doubt or regret that she had just taken a life.

Sansa stood in shock looking at her sister, as if she had never seen her before. She had known Arya had killed since they were separated in King’s Landing, and had accepted it after a few days of thinking it through. But she had never seen Arya kill. Never wanted to. But she had also never seen her act so angrily at the mention of someone since their childhood, when Micah was murdered. She only ever acted this strongly when it was the ones she cared for that had been hurt. And there was something behind how she reacted which was different to before. As if this boy had meant much more than thought.

‘Lady Arya’ Queen Daenerys interrupted her frozen stance. Slowly, she turned around and faced the Queen. No remorse, no guilt, no regret was painted on her face. She merely stood there stoically. ‘You may return to your chambers if you wish. Or perhaps go for a walk, the rain has calmed now and I understand you haven’t had a moment to yourself for some time’

Arya nodded head, though her shoulders relaxed slightly and a grateful look appeared in her eyes. She slowly turned her way and made her way to the door and through the lingering crowd, who had waited to see the fate of the young Stark.

‘Lady Arya’ Daenerys called out once more. Arya turned to her, as did many others, and looked at her Queen ‘Whoever he may have been’ Arya flinched at the implication of his death, ‘I am truly sorry for your lose’. And she was.

Arya nodded once more and bowed her, showing her acknowledgement of the Queen’s apology. She made her way towards the doors, never turning back again.

As soon as she was outside and walking further into the gardens, the rain poured again. But she made no move to turn back. And she made no move to brush away the silent tears that cascaded down her cheeks. 

**\-----A &G-----**

It was raining the day the Brotherhood Without Banners arrived in the capital to meet their new Queen. The Brotherhood had been invited to King’s Landing by her grace to be thanked for their service to the realm and protection of the people against the cruelty of the Lannisters.

This did not sit well with Arya Stark.

Every since her ‘little outburst’ with the Red Witch, as some court members were calling it, she had been colder and harsher than the winter storms of the north, and taken to secluding herself. Despite much prodding from her sister, Arya revealed nothing of the ‘bastard boy’. Not his name. Not where they had met. Nor what they had been to one another. She said nothing.

If anything, the constant reprimands that, if those at court began to believe that she had been ‘improper with a bastard’, would mean the tarnishing of her reputation, only angered her more.

For a long time, Arya didn’t seek the company of anyone but her pet direwolf, Nymeria or a horse from the stables she could take on a ride through the gardens. This worried Sansa much, who feared Arya would return to how she had been when they had first been reunited. Sansa could not bear to see her sister act in such way again.

But neither could she bear to see her in such pain either. Whenever the subject of the mysterious boy arose Arya would immediately tense up and guard herself. Whoever this boy may have been, he had meant a great deal to Arya-still did-, and his death affected her deeply and sourly. If anything, the announcement of the Brotherhood’s arrival had only worsened her mood, for what reason Sansa didn’t know- not that Arya would tell her.

Queen Daenerys hadn’t pressed the matter, not who the boy was, not why Melisandre took him, not why Arya killed her. None of it. For that Arya was grateful, it was evidential, that when she in the Queen’s presence and was addressed, she froze, but looked steadily at the Queen. As soon as it was obvious that Daenerys was not going to say anything, Arya’s shoulders dropped slightly a sigh of relief leaving her. It was not noticeable to all, but to Sansa it was clear. The only thing Daenerys had mentioned to Arya, was simply suggestion to go riding on the day of the Brotherhood’s arrival. Whist she had not explicitly said for Arya not to see them, or told her she didn’t have to, it was obvious that was the Queen’s intent.

So that is what happened, the day the Brotherhood Without Banners arrived, Arya was nowhere to be found near them. Despite the looming dark clouds that hung over the city, as they seemed to do everyday recently, Arya was in the woods with Nymeria and her horse.

And for a time that was how it remained. In fact, it stayed this way all the way until the middle of the feast. Until Arya entered the hall. She paid no attention to those watching her, only set her eyes straight forward to her seat on the Queen’s High Table.

‘Lady Arya’ Daenerys greeted happily. ‘I am surprised to see you here’

Arya flinched slightly at the Queen’s comment, but trained her face to smile pleasantly. She too was surprised that she was here. But she knew that she couldn’t avoid it. Not when they were here in the Red Keep and would be travelling with the Royal Party, herself included, north to Winterfell. She turned to face Lord Beric.

‘My Lady’ he called out to her. She turned her attention to the Lord and slowly walked towards him. Once again the room became deadly silent as the young she-wolf stalked like a predator. As soon as she arrived in front of him, her eyes swept over his face for any sign of remorse. She could only see confusion and a small bit of amusement. This irked her.

‘He’s dead’ she snapped at him. His face contorted into puzzlement for a moment, before opening up into understanding and then quickly falling into a silent sadness.

‘I am so sorry’ he meaningfully apologised, his voice clearly full of regret and sorrow, for all to hear.

Except his apology seemed to have to exact opposite effect on Arya. Her face ignited in a red rage and her hands clenched at her side. ‘You have no right to feel anything over his death.’ she fumed ‘If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t have been anywhere near that bitch’

The hall lit up with gasps and muttering.

‘With who?’ Beric asked, ignoring the murmur of voices surrounding them.

‘Melisandre’ Arya spat out her name as if it was poison in her mouth ‘If you hadn’t of taken the money, if you had protected him, he would be alive now. He would have been alright and he would have followed me.’

‘If he was alive now, he would be a brother of the Brotherhood.’ he corrected ‘He wouldn’t be with you my lady.’

Arya’s jaw clenched, but her eyes soon filled with tears, threatening to overflow. Outside the winds rumbled and gave way for the rain to fall hard upon the ground.

‘At least he’d be alive’ she hissed through the tears that she struggled to restrain. ‘And it’s your fault he isn’t’ a grow tore from her throat and she released her sword from her side.

Chaos reigned in the hall once more, Sansa quickly standing up and rushing to her sister pulling her back, whispering soothing words in her ears. Queen Daenerys reached over to Lord Beric and placed her hand on his drawing his attention to her.

‘My greatest apologies Lord Beric. Lady Arya means no offence nor harm or threat.’ she peacefully explained. ‘From my understanding, she merely cared for this boy a great deal. Her grief has clouded her judgement is all.’

‘Of course, Your Grace’ Lord Beric agreed, his eyes flickering over to Arya. ‘It is most understandable. She and the boy were great friends. It is completely reasonable that she may wish to blame others, myself included.’

Daenerys nodded and turned her gaze back to the Stark sisters. Arya’s arm and sword had fallen to her side, Sansa wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders. The rain had settled outside into a constant downpour.

‘Thank you for your understanding Lord Beric’ Daenerys replied. ‘Lady Arya has been in grieving since the discovery of his death’

‘I am not surprised my Queen’ he stated ‘She was always very close with him and I would be shocked if the boy’s passing did not affect her so-’

‘Gendry’

Arya’s voice resounded loud and clear throughout the hall and all gossip stopped, all eyes focusing in on the young northern Lady. Hers however, stayed trained on Lord Beric.

She took a steadying breath and repeated herself.

‘Gendry’ she muttered ‘Gendry. His name was Gendry’

‘I remember’ Beric responded

‘And he was much more than just _boy_ ’ she spat at him ‘His name was Gendry and he was more than that’ _He still is_ she thought to herself, her heart aching.

‘I know’ he nodded.

‘And he was a blacksmith’ she continued ‘The best blacksmith in the whole of Westeros and he carried around a bull’s helm’

‘Arya’ Sansa whispered, her arms encasing her sister with a tight grip ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to do this here. You don’t have to say anything.’

‘And he was strong, so strong’ the words came flooding out, a constant stream of words, and there was nothing Arya could do to stop them ‘When he hit the metal, it- it sang. And he insisted on calling me m’lady, despite me telling him not to, because apparently that what he had to do, since he was a bastard from King’s Landing. And he was so stupid. He was an idiot. An absolutely stupid bull-headed bastard.’ her voice broke, but she carried on talking, unable to prevent the words from coming out.

Tears rose in her eyes, but did not fall, because this time she would remember her wolf ways and wolves did not cry. She was not like the stupid lords and ladies at court, who were sniffling behind her, despite not knowing a thing about him.

‘But it didn’t matter because he was my pack’ she cried out, still keeping in the tears ‘Only he was different. When anyone else would have turned me in and accepted the reward, he protected me. He protected me like _f--family_ ’ she stuttered over the word ‘better and for longer than you did. He looked after me, for months.

He was my best friend’

she thundered. ‘But because of you, he wanted to leave me. Because of you he wanted to join the Brotherhood’

‘It wasn’t because of me that he wanted to join the Brotherhood my lady-’ he interrupted but was stopped when Arya continued again

‘And because of you, _she_ _took him away_ ’ she yelled. There was a pause, the room was still. Arya shrugged off Sansa’ grip and picked up her sword, securing it back on her belt ‘That, Lord Beric, you cannot deny’

With the ferocity of the storm outside, Arya turned around and marched out of the hall, without a glance at the Queen, her sister, or any member of the Brotherhood.

She was a wolf, a Stark of Winterfell, and they had seen too much and too many of her tears. She was stronger and better than to let them see her cry once more. Melisandre and the Brotherhood were not worthy of even the smallest tear. The thunder roared outside, and with the growl of a wolf, Arya charged off into the heart of the forest and the eye of the storm. Here she would seek peace and calm until she could return to her home. Here, the rain could not touch her, so she ran as fast as she could.

Even if it was without a stupid bull-headed bastard by her side.

**\-----A &G-----**

It was raining the day the Royal Party stopped at the Inn at the Crossroads.

They had been travelling North, when the never-ending drizzle, turned into a heavy shower. So unable to carry on in such conditions and the inn being so close, the Royal Party stopped. Despite being surprised by their arrival and completely unaware, the innkeepers quickly had food and drink brought out to all those in the Queen’s company. The horses and carriages were tied up outside quickly, and Arya found herself sitting in a corner of the inn with the best stew and bread she had ever tasted.

Her sister was seated next to the Queen, happily chirping away about the Riverlands, House Tully, Winterfell and of course about Bran, Rickon and (surprisingly) Jon who were waiting to meet them. Arya hadn’t wanted to join in. She rarely did these days, so she simply sat observing everyone hyper aware of everything in her surroundings.

Which was why she wasn’t surprised when someone called out to her from behind her seat. It was who it was that startled her.

‘Arry?’

The voice registered in the back of her mind, not fully understanding until she turned around and saw his face.

‘Hot Pie!’ she exclaimed, quickly standing and after a moment of hesitation, she gave him a hug, which he awkwardly returned. Looking up at him she saw the same old Hot Pie, round red cheeks, dark hair on his head and heavy footsteps, with no regard to her title. Her sister was probably having a heart attack right now at the sight of it.

Sitting herself back down, and Hot Pie sitting opposite her, she took another roll that he offered, snacking on it eagerly. ‘The food is really good’ she commented with a mouth full of meat and bread. And she was sure she just heard her sister let out a muffled gasp.

‘Thanks’ Hot Pie glowed, then started playing with the threads of his clothes with embarrassment at his eager response. Arya simply laughed.

For a while, they simply talked. Hot Pie questioning her about the rumours he’d heard where she fought in numerous battles with a direwolf at her side. Arya asked about the inn and his job there. They both answered enthusiastically. It was all going so well, even with the rest of the party obviously eavesdropping, until Hot Pie mentioned him.

‘So where’s Gendry?’ Arya immediately tensed up.

She ignored the lump in her throat and told him as steadily as possible. ‘He’s dead Hot Pie’

Hot Pie’s eyes immediately widened, a disbelieving look in his eyes. His eyes fell on the table, a solemn and all too serious look for Hot Pie, crossed his face. Moments of silence followed, and Arya imagined that this must have been a bit like how she looked when she found out about his death.

‘I am so sorry Arry’ Hot Pie whispered. Her previous identity brought a small bit of calm to Arya and his apology made her feel better. Hot Pie was the only other person in the world that she knew who truly cared about Gendry.

‘Not your fault’ she impassively said, unaware of how to handle this situation. When others had apologised for ‘her loss’, Arya simply nodded and walked away. They had not known Gendry at all, and did not truly care, only simply wanted a bit of gossip to talk of over wine. Hot Pie knew Gendry, and this was a completely different situation to what Arya had ever been in before.

‘Still’ Hot Pie mumbled and Arya had a feeling he didn’t know how to handle this either. That was at least slightly comforting. ‘How-how did he…you know…what…’ Hot Pie attempted to ask but couldn’t completely say it. Nevertheless, Arya understood and in the best way she could, she explained how Gendry had been taken by Melisandre, and everything that followed.

He stayed quiet after she finished and never interrupted once, only watching her explain. He looked back up to her and timidly smiled, before nervously reaching over and placing his hand on hers in a small sign of comfort. Despite the unusual situation, and slight uncomfortable feeling, Arya smiled back. Hot Pie took his hand away and together they sat and ate food for a time, listening to the rain pound down outside.

‘Why did you think he would be with me?’ Arya asked. The question had been nagging at her, since she realised what Hot Pie had insinuated half way through telling the story.

‘What do you mean?’ he swallowed down a bite of bread.

‘You know’ Arya started ‘You asked where Gendry was. Why did you automatically think he was with me?’

Confusion lit up Hot Pie’s face. He looked at her as if the answer was clear. But after realising that she didn’t know he explained.

He looked as if he was talking to a four year old ( _was it really that obvious?_ she thought) ‘Because wherever you go, Gendry follows’

Arya simply stared at Hot Pie for a moment, mouth hanging open.

‘That-that’s not true’ she meekly argued

‘Of course it is’ Hot Pie laughed ‘He would have gone through all seven hells with you’. He smiled at her, before realising that Arya was still in complete shock and bewilderment. The smile faded off before a look of complete wonder took over his face. ‘You didn’t know’ he sighed.

‘Know what?’ she asked.

Hot Pie shook his head chuckling. ‘Arya, he would have gone anywhere with you’

‘But he wouldn’t’ Arya insisted ‘He was going to leave me and join the Brotherhood. He didn’t want to travel with me anymore’

Hot Pie sighed ‘He must have had his reasons’ he said ‘Must have been something really important to want to leave you’

Arya looked out of the window, watching the rain fall down. After a while she spoke to Hot Pie ‘All it seems to do nowadays is rain’ she sighed ‘And all I seem to feel is just…well…nothing. I feel nothing’

Hot Pie looked at her questioningly. So she explained.

‘Before I just felt angry. Angry at the Red Witch, at the Brotherhood, all of them. Angry that they didn’t save them. Now I don’t know what to do with myself. For so long all I could think of was killing those who wronged my family and getting revenge, that now I’m finished and it’s all over, I don’t know what do’

She turned back to the window ‘I just want it to stop raining.’

**\-----A &G-----**

It wasn’t raining the day they arrived at Winterfell. Only cloudy and overcast.

The reunion had been emotional, tears were shed and the reunited siblings had hugged one another so many times they lost count. It was as though that had to make sure they were truly there with each other back home. Many arms were pinched that day, to make sure they weren’t dreaming.

Arya was finally home. After years of being away and years of trying to get back, only to be kidnapped and sidetracked, she was here. She had heard about how Winterfell was just a shell of itself after being burnt to the ground. But now it had been resurrected to it’s former glory. The wolves had come again and they were fiercer and stronger then ever.

In the main hall, a magnificent feast was set out for them and the Queen. On the main table, Bran sat at the head with Sansa and Arya on either side of him. Daenerys and Jon, who had come back from the wall with permission for a few months leave, were by Sansa, and Arya was sat next to Rickon who had grown so much. Bran had said that Rickon would soon take his place as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, since he thought being a cripple may affect his ruling. Arya had argued it didn’t matter, but she could see it did to Bran. This wasn’t what he wanted, and it wasn’t what wild Rickon wanted either, but he seem to be at least slightly willing to carry out his duty as heir.

Despite being older and taller, a man grown, Rickon was still the little boy Arya could remember. Talkative, untameable, arguably a bit mad, but in a good way. Right now he was talking Arya’s ear off about the new forge in Winterfell.

‘It’s amazing Arya’ he cheered ‘The new blacksmith is amazing! He lets me watch him work sometimes and made me a brand new sword!’ He pulled out a sword from it’s sheath and passed it to his sister ‘Isn’t it brilliant?!’

‘Amazing’ she mumbled thoughtfully. Rickon was right, it was brilliant craftsmanship. The balance was perfect and Rickon handled it with ease, but there was something about the work that stirred something hidden away in her mind. It was familiar. ‘Tell me more about him then’

‘Well right now he’s gone with some of the other townsmen to get supplies from White Harbour. You know, wool, steel, that sort of stuff. Restock everything. But they should have arrived back now. They were expected a few hours after you.’

‘Right’ she said.

‘But anyway, he’s quite quiet, but when he does talk he is so funny. No one really knows anything about him, except that he arrived here to help rebuild Winterfell in search of some girl.’

‘What girl?’ Arya suddenly asked, snapping to attention.

Rickon eyed her wearily ‘Just some girl he knew. Said he travelled with her for a while and then they…well they just…well no one knows what happened. He doesn’t talk about it and no one really wants to ask in case they anger him. He looks like he could break someone with just a punch to face’ he laughed.

Arya’s breathing started to get heavier and her mind started to work frantically.

_Could it be him?_

_It can’t be, he’s dead the Red Woman said he was dead._

_No, she said he was_

_probably dead._

_How could he have survived? He can’t swim. He must be dead._

_But he could be **here** in Winterfell._

_And what if he’s not? What if you find out he’s not here and_ _you’ve raised your hopes for nothing? You’ve made it home, you’re finally with your brothers and sister again. The Gods aren’t that kind to return him too._

Whilst she was having an internal battle, Rickon was still talking to her and only now realised she was not listening. ‘Arya? Are you alright?’

‘I’m fine’ she said ‘Just tell me more. Go on’ she insisted a bit scarily

‘Okay’ he carefully replied. ‘He’s really good at his job, and everyone likes him. Practically all the girls in the town like him. But he’s rubbish with a sword, much better with a-’

‘Hammer’ Arya whispered.

‘Yes’ Rickon said shocked ‘How did you know?’

‘Lucky guess’ she lied ‘Keep going, tell me more’

‘Why?’ he asked ‘What does it matter, about some blacksmith?’

‘Just tell me!’ she said louder, starting to attract the attention of others in the hall.

‘I don’t know what else to tell you-’

‘What does he look like?’ she interrupted

‘Why do you-’

‘What does he look like?!’ she shouted, eyes wide and frantic. Her siblings were looking at her now, shocked.

‘Arya what is it?’ Bran asked, though he went unanswered, her gaze fixed on Rickon. Bran looked to Sansa. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘She’s been like this for a while’ Sansa stammered, her voice full of worry. ‘She found out her friend died, and she’s been like this ever since.’

‘Just tell me what he looks like!’

‘Arya’ Jon approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder ‘What’s wrong?’

‘No!’ she exclaimed, shaking off his hand ‘I just need to know what he looks like!’

‘Who?’ he asked confusedly.

‘The blacksmith!’ she yelled at him, turning to look at him. Jon eyed her nervously, unsure why it mattered so much.

‘Black hair’ he mumbled ‘Quiet big, strong. Blue eyes I think…’

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence, before she had jumped out of her seat, over the table and was running out the hall. They called out to her, told the guards to stop her, but she was too quick for them. Dashing out of the doors, she ran into the courtyard.

**\-----A &G-----**

He had arrived back saddle-sore, hungry and exhausted.

They’d put all supplies in a large shed for the night and would sort them out in the morning. Everyone who made the journey was dead on their feet. Some made their way towards the homes and families. However, he did not like the thought of returning to a lonely forge, despite there being a warm bed waiting for him, so he went with some of the other men to the inn.

Now they were drinking ale, eating pies and catching up the other folk from the town.

‘…And Betty had a kid.’ one man said.

‘Another one!?’ another asked ‘I didn’t even know she was with child!’

‘Neither did she!’ the first one laughed ‘She was five months gone, when you lot left, didn’t realise until a week before the little one was born’ Everyone laughed, the table shaking with them and ale swooping out of their tankards.

‘Have you told them about them about the Royal visit?’ asked one of the tavern girls.

‘Oh aye! I had completely forgotten’ the first man laughed again. He was completely drunk.

‘How could you forget the return of the Lady Starks?’ she incredulously asked giggling at him, but still sitting herself down in his lap. No one seemed to notice his head snapping up to look at her.

‘Oh enough with you woman’ he said ‘But anyway, it’s true the Queen herself and all them royal fuckers from down south have come north, to bring back the Lady Sansa and Lady Arya’ he finished, nodding impressively at them.

‘L-Lady Arya? The real Lady Arya!?’ he asked urgently, leaning forward.

‘Aye son,’ the man replied completely oblivious to his friend’s urgent tone ‘Much older now, seems to have filled out finally. Not Arya Horseface anymore’ he laughed the whole tavern joining in. Except for him. He sat frozen staring at him.

One of the men who he had just returned with, finally noticed him sitting there, unmoving and shocked ‘You alright there Waters?’ he asked, pushing his shoulder to get him out of his stoic stance.

Coming out of his daze, he immediately stood up, nearly knocking over the table in his way and headed for the door faster than he thought could carry him in the cramped room. ‘Oi! Watch what you’re doing you fucking idiot!’ the drunk man yelled at him, but his friend shouted for him ‘Waters! What are you doing?’ He followed him, pushing his way through the crowd towards the door.

‘Waters! WATERS!’ but he didn’t turn around. When he finally made it to the door, he ran towards the courtyard ignoring the shouts of his name behind him.

‘Waters! What are you doing?! For fuck sake you stupid shit-head blacksmith!! Waters! Waters!

‘ _Gendry!!_ ’

**\-----A &G-----**

She came to a skidding halt once she reached the courtyard. _Was the forge in the same place?_

But before she had any chance to go running off to look for it, someone came running into the courtyard from the opposite end. Upon seeing her they immediately stopped. She expected them to splutter and bow as everyone else had done when she arrived, the man- she was sure he was a man, he was rather tall and broad- just stared at her.

He slowly took a step forward, bring himself into the moonlight. As soon as his face was visible, the air was knocked out of her. She could only stare back.

Wordlessly, he walked towards her and she walked towards him. Behind her, her brothers and sister had arrived followed by many guards and Queen Daenerys. She could hear the rustle of their armour, but it suddenly stopped, and she heard one of her brother hush their questions. A handful townspeople came running in from the same direction as Gendry, only to stop straight away just at the sight. The moon overhead was clouded over and the trees shook.

Once they were in front of each other, close enough to touch, they stopped. No words were uttered, no one moved.

Tentatively, she reached out her hand and slowly went to place it on his cheek, scared that she would be met with thin air. But she didn’t, her hand rested on his cheek, and he was warm and real, yet still she couldn’t say anything to him. The only thing she could do was breath. Everything else, everything she had told herself she would do if he was alive, slipped away from her, leaving her to just stand in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by everyone at Winterfell, staring at him.

Finally, _finally,_ he spoke.

‘M’lady’ he choked, the word hurtling out of his throat with a break.

A sob escaped her mouth and without a second thought she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He brought his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. ‘I thought you were _dead_ ’ she cried ‘She said you were _dead!_ ’

Instead of whispering comfort to her, he simply held her tighter and buried his head in between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent.

‘I thought-I thought she’d killed you’ Arya sobbed ‘The Red Witch- she said you were dead!’ Sansa gasped and the Brotherhood mumbled with the realisation of who this was she was hugging.

‘Lord Bran’ Queen Daenerys said behind them ‘Perhaps you could show me the rest of Winterfell.’

‘Of-of course Your Grace’ he agreed and told Hodor to take him back inside. With the absence of their Lord, everyone took that as their order to leave. The courtyard emptied, until it was just the two of them wrapped up in each other’s embrace. They were not aware of the cold, nor of the wind, or of the threatening rumble of the clouds above, they only thought of the other, and how long it had been.

When they pulled apart, still in each others arms, they smiled, unfaltering smiles, through tears and sobs. It was just them, not just in the courtyard, but in the whole world. Years without the other, and now in this moment they were the only one who existed.

They’re lips touched and it was as if the planet aligned.

And it started to rain.

When they pulled apart, they were soaked to the bone, completely drenched. But it didn’t matter. None of it matter. They just laughed and smiled. They were together again. A bit of rain doesn’t hurt, not when they were together.


End file.
